


Manly Heaven

by thalialunacy



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Armpit Kink, Drabble, M/M, Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 14:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalialunacy/pseuds/thalialunacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one with the armpit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manly Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> [accidentally prompted by alby_mangroves, who said: '[Karl's] armpits smell like manly heaven and when he smiles directly at you, your knees kind of just slide apart.]

When the first of his alarms goes off, Chris wants to kill it. He rolls towards it, filled with rage— but instead encounters a warm, scruffy body. Particularly, and here's a morning-after faux-pas for you, a decidedly masculine armpit.

Distracted from his alarm-death-wish, he rubs a little, sniffs once. Feels the hairs against his nose.

The owner grumbles something unintelligible and reaches over to slap the alarm himself. The movement is graceful, per usual, but it jostles them both just enough that Chris's top lip is now involved in the armpit action. He sniffs again.

"That must be pleasant," Karl says quietly, amusement coloring his morning voice.

Chris's lips curve into a smile. "Manly heaven," he says, his lips moving against hairs that are different than anywhere else on Karl's body. And he would know. He's done a study of that terrain. Several very thorough studies.

Karl snorts. Chris feels his palm move up his back to his neck, then stay there, warm and heavy. "You don't say."

Chris snuffles a bit. It's not a traditionally pleasant smell, but mysteries of human chemistry and all because he doesn't find it offensive. It's just Karl. So it's also just something he yearns pathetically for on the mornings—so many mornings—it's not there. "I think I read it somewhere."

"You should stop reading the rubbish Quinto links you," Karl murmurs, shifting a little, curling more into Chris's body, sliding an ankle in between Chris's calves.

"Yeah, probably," Chris mutters back. He licks his lips, once, considers the taste for a moment, then goes back for more. The hairs run across his tongue.

Karl lets out a laugh and twitches into Chris a little bit. "That tickles, Pine."

Chris chuckles, feels it rumble through both of them, and finally lifts his head and opens his eyes.

Karl's there, above him, his hair all askew, a red pillow crease on his cheek, his eyes sleepy-huge and twinkling. 

"Shit," Chris manages.

"What?"

"You're in my bed looking like a porn star and that alarm is going to go off again in like six minutes."

Karl looks at him for about three seconds, then calmly reaches over and unplugs the whole thing.

Chris's lips press together as he tries not to laugh. "Really?"

"Really, really. What good is being rich and famous if you can't be late once in a while?"

And Karl's lips slide into a smile, a real smile, flirting with dimples and disaster, and Chris feels his brain fizzle down to nothing but want. He reaches over and yanks until Karl's in between his spread thighs, the solid weight welcome and heady.

"My phone alarm will go off in fifteen," he mumbles in between kisses. "So you'd better make this good."

"As you wish," Karl replies, the words quiet and fond. And he presses his smile into Chris's skin.


End file.
